


For Your Eyes Only

by VioletteMoon



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bathtub Sex, Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Domestic Boyfriends, Explicit Sexual Content, Jearmin - Freeform, M/M, Panties, Rimming, Shameless Smut, jean and armin are both hornballs tbh, life got in the way, originally for jean's birthday but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 18:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18722326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletteMoon/pseuds/VioletteMoon
Summary: Jean is upset that his boyfriend can’t break his busy schedule for his birthday. But little does he know, Armin sending him off to spend the day with friends is just a cleverly-organized ploy to keep him out of their home while the preparations for his /real/ gift are underway.





	For Your Eyes Only

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant as a birthday present for Jean, but my wifi has been out for EONS so I wasn’t able to post It in time.  
> Woe is me u__u

Armin prided himself in his ability to keep his composure, but it was admittedly difficult _not_ to cave when he saw Jean and his badly-contained dejection. Sighing, the blond reached out and touched his bony wrist, tracing the pronounced veins there with his finger.

“I promised we’d do something tomorrow, didn’t I?” Armin hoped the warmth of his smile was enough to assuage Jean at least partially. He had his doubts.

“And the guys’re taking you out to brunch, so you won’t be totally deprived of company.”

But as he’d predicted, Jean was determinedly upset and not willing to see it as an upside.

“Fuck them all,” he muttered. They both knew he didn’t mean it, though. “You know I’d rather spend my birthday with _you_ , like we’d planned.”

It was the pout that nearly did Armin in. He somehow forced himself to stay unflinching in his lie though; He knew Jean’s mood would be recovered when he came home to what Armin had _actually_ organized for his special day.

But it wasn’t set to happen until after brunch with their friends, and then movies at Marco’s house. So he’d have to perpetuate this charade some time longer.

Armin could do that. Yes, it’d be on a lighter conscious if Jean _wasn’t_ sulking about what he believed were the plans for his birthday. It only made Armin feel guilty for even attempting to deceive him.

His boyfriend was far too trusting for his own good. It had been an uncomfortably simple task to get him to go along with Armin’s dishonest plot.

 _I have to work today, baby,_ was what he’d told him earlier in bed, _but I promise we’ll celebrate tomorrow. I was able to get the day off._

This was all part of an elaborate scheme. Jean would be out of their apartment and Armin would utilize the solitude to start baking his cake (red velvet, his favorite) at a predetermined time, all in nothing but lace panties and an apron. Jean was to walk in on this after his return from Marco’s.

Following that, the birthday boy would be receiving a candlelit massage and a bath, too. Armin had already purchased so many items specifically for their night together via Amazon Prime. He was _excited_ to arrange them the way he’d drafted out the aesthetic in his mind.

But for any of this to occur, his boyfriend would first have to vacate their home. Armin glanced at the man beside him on the couch and, hoping to disarm him a little, he pressed his mouth to his in a kiss.

“M’sorry.” The blond didn’t have to fake being apologetic. “I’d rather it, too. Maybe… Maybe I can try and leave work early. I don’t think Hanji will allow it, but I can always ask.”

The story was that Armin’s boss was making him work all throughout Jean’s birthday. Of course, this was just a diversion from what he’d really be up to once alone. Armin kept up the mask well.

“Please do that,” urged Jean. “I’d prefer to come home and see you there. Can’t think of a better birthday present.” He tightly encased the other man in his arms.

Armin bit back a smile. He had _no idea_ what lay in store for him once the sun went down. Jean’s ignorance toward his birthday was quite amusing.

“I’ll do what I can,” the blond said. He nuzzled his chest and let himself indulge— to be momentarily subdued by the comforting thumps of his heartbeat.

“Reiner says he’s outside,” Jean announced in his annoyed tone. One of his arms withdrew from his small frame so he could get a closer look at his smartwatch.

“Don’t be like that.” Armin rubbed his bicep in gentle motions, scolding him mildly. “You’re gonna have so much fun today. You’ll be with _friends_. And then, afterward, maybe you and I can even spend time together.”

_Maybe._

While Armin did value the element of surprise, more so he valued the barely-there smile that decorated his love’s face when he contemplated the viability of Armin’s words.

“Don’t get me excited.” Jean didn’t bother downplaying how much the idea of that delighted him. Watching his smile as it enlarged… Now _that_ was a sight to behold. Armin kissed the apple of his cheek.

“Yeah, you’re right.” The blond’s smile was small and sweet. “I probably shouldn’t, but I’m trying to saturate it in positive energy.”

Jean chuckled. “Okay, baby.” He seemed so very disinclined to not be near him, even as they were both aware that Reiner— with their other friends likely with him— was awaiting Jean outside.

Armin squeezed his arm before taking the initiative and permitting Jean to move. He wasn’t at all surprised when he lingered; He had a feeling he would. Continuing to be embraced was highly efficient as a tranquilizer, anyway. His eyes slid shut when Jean planted lips on his temple.

“Believe me when I say it’s the exact _opposite_ of what I want,” Armin exhaled around the words. “but… you did say Reiner’s waiting. You should probably head downstairs now.” His tone was firm enough to deem the matter as pressing, yet he still smiled.

Jean sighed heavily in his chest. He released the man with an unenthusiastic grumble and captured him with the unyielding intensity that flashed in his eyes.

“Come see me off?”

Today was that one time of year it was improper to refuse Jean of anything. Armin’s agreeance came without pause.

“Anything for the birthday boy.” He smiled, thinking briefly on his gift to Jean earlier that morning and how he was dressed. “But, um, I should probably put on clothes…” Armin’s eyes drifted to his bare thighs. He didn’t have to look to know Jean’s own eyes were raking over his sitting form. He could _feel_ them.

As per his ardent request, Armin had put on one of Jean’s too-big button-downs and boxer briefs with a healthy history of being shrunk in the dryer. He’d not even had it in him to complain about the chill clinging to their apartment; Armin absolutely _had_ to give Jean the best birthday in his power.

Meanwhile, the other regarded him with a smirk that was stretched broad over his features.

“You’re perfect just like this, ‘Min.” Jean kissed his shoulder.

“Says you, but this isn’t exactly _appropriate_ for a public setting.” Armin’s chuckle was soft in his throat. “I should go change. But… for you, I’ll keep the shirt on. Deal?”

Jean’s expression was sufficient confirmation that he supported this wholly. Armin caught him with a smile before rising from the couch, and from Jean’s arms. Just a hint of his underwear peeked out from beneath the oversized white shirt. Armin saw, and felt, hazel eyes intently scrutinizing the eyeful that was presented to him.

A smirk overtook Armin’s face at the blatant hunger Jean professed. He couldn’t even _think_ to walk away before his wrist was seized and he was at once pulled down into Jean’s lap.

Armin only pretended to fight, giggling as his hands rested atop Jean’s shoulders. He responded to the powerful connection of their mouths with a sigh, conveying his utter submission.

_Sorry, Reiner._

\---

Contrary to what Armin had promised before, Jean was _not_ having fun. Though he suspected that might’ve partly been his own fault. The text from his boyfriend breaking the news that he wouldn’t be granted early leave from work had _annihilated_ his mood to an unsalvageable degree. Now, Jean sat in _Bob Evans,_ miserable despite being surrounded by friends.

He felt honestly crappy for not appreciating the effort his friends obviously put into making his birthday enjoyable. They’d taken him to his favorite restaurant (This particular one happened to be where he had his first date with Armin months prior) and were paying for him to be a glutton on his more preferred type of food: breakfast.

And Sasha brought Cards Against Humanity. All in all, they were the makings for a great start to his birthday. Jean had to recognize that even as he was mired in his disgruntlement over Armin not being there.

 

“Happy birthday, Jean!” came the united chorus of his friends as a stack of pancakes, with candles that read _24_ protruding from the topmost one, was laid out before him.

“You guys…” Jean looked around the table. Right then, he couldn’t hold in his smile. “this wasn’t even necessary. But fuck, thank you.” Jean didn’t waste his breath harping about how much _better_ it would be if a certain blond was in attendance. They all knew he was thinking it.

“It was extremely necessary, bro. For whatever reason, we all love you.” Connie nudged his shoulder from his seat on his left side in the booth. “Kinda goes without saying that we have to give you the best birthday.”

Sasha seconded the notion with a bright smile. Reiner patted him on the back (none too gently) and even Eren was being cooperatively genial.

“Blow out your candles,” Marco said, displaying cheerfulness not unlike him.

“Don’t wish for something stupid.” Eren snorted.

“He’s allowed to wish for what he wants.” Mikasa looked pointedly at her adoptive brother.

“Yeah, Eren.” Jean lifted his eyes from his plate. “You’re not even supposed to be a dick today.” He glared at him readily.

Eren swallowed the retort in his throat when Mikasa’s hand went to his arm, trying to cajole him. Jean thanked her wordlessly; He’d rather not get into it with Eren on a day meant to go by smoothly.

Further necessitation from his friends triggered him to blow out his candles. Closing his eyes, Jean made the silent birthday wish that Armin would surprise him with his presence at the restaurant. It wasn’t granted. He struggled not to just sit there frowning for the duration of the brunch.

\---

“Can I talk to you about something?”

Hours later, Marco detached his eyes from the DVD player and shifted to Jean. He’d just put in _The Crucible_. All too clearly, Jean could visualize younger versions of him and Marco reading that in their eleventh grade English class. 

Now, he looked at the freckled figure that still called himself his best friend.

“What’s up, man?” Jean asked attentively.

There was a beat of Marco looking pensive, then his face broke into a grin. It relieved Jean that the subject matter didn’t seem as if it was going to be uncomfortable.

Marco was smiling at nothing. Jean was privy to the expression; It tended to emerge whenever he spoke, or thought, about a _particular someone._

The dark-haired man sat on the recliner that was positioned diagonally in front of the television.  “I think…I think I might propose to Mikasa soon.”

On the couch, Jean didn’t even _act_ shocked. He remembered their little excursion outside of town the previous week. Marco wanted to show Jean this vintage jewelry shop he’d come across one day by chance. Apparently, he’d even put something on hold that it was _imperative_ Jean see.

Upon their arrival, Marco unveiled what it was: an exquisite silver ring, beset with diamonds and amethysts bordering the center. He claimed it hadn’t been intentional that the ring included Mikasa’s birthstone, to which Jean had only smirked.

He knew Marco had been picturing his girlfriend’s finger ornamented with that ring. It didn’t take a genius to see how _madly_ the prospect of marrying Mikasa overjoyed him. Confined to his mind was the only time Jean acknowledged the sweetness.

“What do you think about that?” Marco posed the question like he expected him to disapprove or something. That was laughable. Jean had been for Marco and Mikasa since fifteen months ago when they first became an item.

Mikasa was honestly great (nothing like her shithead brother) _and_ she’d been the one to introduce him to Armin almost a year agp. Such qualities made her very attractive as a future sister-in-law.

But ultimately, it was Marco’s happiness that was the most important thing to think about.

He’d always had undeniable compatibility with her— it had been so since before they even got romantic. In tandem with the palpable love that was plain for everyone to see… The decision was an easy one. If there was even a decision to be made.

“You’re seriously asking?” Jean looked at his friend and chuckled. “You know I think you guys are perfect for each other.”

_Like Armin and I._

While they’d only been boyfriends for six months (it was that celebratory dinner that prompted Armin into asking Jean to move in), Jean needed no one to tell him that the blond man was the love of his life. It was just something he knew.

Never before had Jean experienced feelings of such an _enormous_ scale. He wondered if that was what Marco thought when he looked at Mikasa. It must’ve been.

He observed Marco smile luminously while affirming that he and Mikasa were indeed perfect for each other. It was good he was aware. Jean smiled too, starting the movie with the DVD remote when the menu screen popped up.

“So I take it that ring you showed me was an engagement ring?”

Marco tilted his head in contemplation. “Maybe. But I haven’t really been browsing. First I need to know if I’m actually gonna propose.”

“I think you should, man.” Jean gave him an encouraging look. “You love Mikasa more than anything and you _know_ she feels the same. If you don’t do it, she will for sure.”

Jean may’ve laughed, but the possibility was something to consider. He heard his best friend laugh as well and he would assume he saw the truth in the statement. Jean could wholeheartedly see Mikasa proposing marriage to Marco.

 

After a time, their mirth died back down and Jean and Marco focused on the television. The opening credits came to an end and now, the beginning of _The Crucible_ was playing.

Jean munched on a handful of popcorn from the translucent green bowl on the coffee table. He had to concede that he was enjoying himself. Though, still, there were no delusions that his circumstances would be remarkably improved if he was accompanied by Armin.

Jean took a gander at the stack of movies they were going to watch, knowing _The Great Gatsby_ was one of his boyfriend’s favorites. Jean sighed to himself and shut his eyes, cursing his boss for making him work.

\---

It was just about evening when Jean came back to the home he shared with Armin. The high spirits flew right out of him when he was reminded that he’d be met with emptiness once inside the apartment. He wasn’t looking forward to it in the slightest.

His poor baby was working a double shift and wouldn’t be off until early the following morning. If Jean was to be honest with himself, he was more concerned with Armin not getting adequate rest than him missing his birthday–- though he wouldn’t admit that aloud.

He brought the brimming Hallmark bag of gifts with him on his elevator ride to his floor. _His floor._ That was a queer thought. He was _living with_ Armin, as he had been for three weeks.

But Jean had already been doing so unofficially. The lot of his things were there, as was he most days out of the week.

Over that half-year, Armin’s apartment evolved into _their_ home. Neither minded; Jean and Armin had an odd clinginess to each other, and had since their friends-with-benefits status gave birth to a real relationship.

Jean fondly recalled when he’d confessed to him. The blond was fresh from summering with family at the beach. It had taken his absence for Jean to accept what his heart was screaming all along: that he wanted his then friend in a way that was more than just sexual.

He’d been _so ecstatic_ when Armin assured him that his feelings were not unrequited; that he too had been harboring a deeper emotion for Jean. _I think I might love you,_ Armin had said, smiling shyly.

The sex they had deviated from their norm: more sentimental and closer to making love than any of their other trysts had been. Jean remembered gazing into Armin’s eyes, proclaiming without words the extent of how he felt.

_I love you._

That September night would be forever ingrained in his memory, Jean knew. But that didn’t displease him; His mood increased vastly whenever he thought about what happened to bind them as one.

Jean let his feet carry him along the carpeted hallway of the fourth floor. Armin gave him a key long before they’d even moved in together, so it was hardly surreal seeing the blue-and-white piece of metal clasped into his keyring. Jean just moved listlessly through unlocking the door of their apartment. He needn’t rush just to be lonely.

But to his glee, it seemed he was spared. Jean was greeted by a wagging tail and a pair of eyes staring up at him. Jean stepped inside fully and turned a small smile on the dog that was standing there.

“Hey there, Biscuit.” Jean rubbed the bloodhound on her head.

Biscuit was part of Armin’s inheritance after his grandfather’s passing. In an earlier stage of their relationship, Jean had once joked that the dog’s evident soft spot for him should’ve eliminated all questions of whether or not they were meant to be. To that, Armin had just grinned and atoned for the misstep by going down on Jean _right there_ in the single-stall bathroom of the bookstore they were in.

Never before had Jean met someone with such a voracious appetite for sex. It rivaled even his own, which was impressive.

 _God._ Jean sighed quietly. _I miss him so fucking much…_

Biscuit must’ve been sensing his dolor because her face nestled against his legs. Jean felt his smile growing at the contact. He’d been prepared to just curl up with the dog and watch some TV, but then, everything suddenly halted.

There was rustling in the kitchen… but that just wasn’t plausible. He and Biscuit were the only ones in the apartment.

…Weren’t they?

 _Don’t get ahead of yourself, Jean._ But the warning was paid no heed. Jean was seldom cautious when assessing a situation. He’d not even cared to remove his leather jacket as he strode around the corner and through the doorway of the kitchen.

The sight his eyes fell on had him _gaping_ in disbelief _._

_There’s just no way…_

But it had to be. Armin was there, to his complete befuddlement. He was at the stove with his back to him, in an ivory apron and… _Oh_. Tight little lace panties that were the same pale turquoise of his eyes. It was just the precise blend of coquettish and _fucking sexy_ that had heat rising under Jean’s collar.

He crossed the tiled floor in measured movements, speaking his name unsurely.

Armin looked over his shoulder at the taller man but stayed put. He curved his back to draw Jean’s eyes to his ass and beckon him.

“Happy birthday, my love.” Armin’s tone was light. The seductive smile that painted his lips was nearly _too much._

When he reached his boyfriend, Jean grabbed at his hips and pressed himself right up against Armin’s backside.

“Damn,” he admired, breathing hotly. “Is this for me?”

Armin gazed deeply into his eyes and leaned inward. “It’s all for you.”

What he meant by that was up for interpretation. On the stove, there was a rectangular cake pan and beside it, a mixing bowl filled with batter that had a reddish hue to it.

 _So he’s baking me a cake…_ Jean smiled and hugged the blond into a warm embrace, his chin hairs tickling his neck when he nuzzled him.

“I’m so elated that you’re here, Armin. But… how’d you manage to get off work early?”

Armin giggled like he was in on a secret Jean wasn’t. Long fingers slipped under the string on both sides of his panties and tapped his hipbones.

Armin gently kissed Jean when his head tilted forward. His lips were soft and tasted of cherries. “I’ve had today requested as time off for _weeks_ ,” he revealed. “Jean… it’s still inconceivable to me that you believed my lie so easily.”

He expelled a peal of laughter, but sobered when he heard Jean’s reply.

“I just trusted you to _not_ be deceitful, I guess.” He looked slightly ruffled, which Armin didn’t like. He felt it was his _duty_ to keep Jean’s spirits afloat.

“I know, baby...” Armin bumped their noses together and donned a smile that exuded tenderness. “I honestly think it’s adorable that you’re so trusting. You don’t even know how bad I felt about not being truthful… but I wanted to ensure I’d have time to set up your surprise.”

Jean’s whole face lit up. “My surprise?” Strong arms secured around the more petite man.

Armin layered the hold with his own arms and nested comfortably into his groin. The unique sensation of delicate lace against denim caused a hitch in Armin’s breath that Jean liked the sound of.

“This is only a piece of what’s in store for you tonight.”

Jean smiled, dragging lips along the swanlike expanse of Armin’s neck. “You are truly amazing...” He massaged his sides for a short period, then snaked beneath the apron and started to grope his chest. He reveled in the soft gasp Armin let out when special attention was given to his nipples.

“Oh…”Armin shivered. His willpower to resume fixing the cake was declining the more Jean played with the little buds. His smile morphed into a smirk against his neck.

Armin bit his bottom lip. “J-Jean…”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I need to…” The bond’s voice was completely unleveled. Jean was amazed he’d achieved that in such a short span of time.

“I need to put the cake in the oven…”

Jean lifted up his head and they both inclined for a kiss. While he did cease his ministrations right then, the height of his arousal and the want to continue teasing him prevailed.

“Fine,” Jean exhaled. He kept the close proximity, though his hands retracted from the apron and wrapped around the body in front of his. “But, Armin…” Jean nosed against his cheek and smirked. “can I have a taste before you do?”

For a moment, Armin didn’t respond. The fondling of his supple thighs betrayed the innocence of that question. If it was even innocent to begin with.

“Of course, love.” When he finally did speak, Armin’s demeanor bowed obediently. “I’d really appreciate some feedback.”

His finger dipped into the mixing bowl and resurfaced with a small coating of the cake batter. Jean lips parted in invitation. The digit was transported to the waiting cavern and he lowered his lids as he sucked it in.

It was so obscene— the manner in which his tongue danced over it as if it was a different extremity he was sucking on. Armin had the decency to moan, even.

_He likes it._

His caramel eyes blinked open for the purpose of watching Armin while his mouth moved, slow and sensual. His boyfriend bit his lip again and pulled his wetted finger from his mouth, holding Jean’s gaze all the time.

“How’s the taste?”

“Delicious, baby doll,” Jean said, smiling. “You did such a good job. You know I love red velvet.” He caressed the flatness of his stomach approvingly.

Armin shifted in the embrace so he faced him, his arms winding around his neck. He brought the other into a kiss, one that made a shudder slink up Jean’s spine with how Armin pressed against his lower half.

“I do know. I just wanted to please you.” Armin still kept his face close. His lips formed a soft smile, though it quickly became a sigh when he felt the globes of ass being caressed.

“Let me finish this… and then, there’ll be something waiting for you in the bedroom.” He kissed his cheek.

That got Jean eager. He slipped his hands into the back of his panties to accent the point when he asked, “Is that when I get to unwrap my gift?”

Armin looked up at him with feigned demureness. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, biting enticingly on a pinkened lip. Jean stroked between his cheeks, playfully rubbing the tight pucker of Armin’s ass.

The other man’s mouth went slack.

“Armin?”

“Y-Yes…”

Jean smirked. He felt more than a little smug when he noted just how _affected_ he was by this, though he supposed he shouldn’t have expected otherwise; his boyfriend was sensitive and extremely responsive, he’d always been. Jean discovered that wonderful trait almost a year ago when he’d first fucked him, drunk on more things than one in the closet at Marco’s birthday party.

That rendezvous blossomed into three months of “no strings” hookups, and then Jean telling Armin that he wanted more than just the physical stuff. It still made him happy to reminisce on how things were. They’d come _so far_. Now, they were boyfriends, and very much in love.

And still so sexually charged.

Jean stroked Armin rhythmically beneath the lace, evoking low mewls from the blond’s mouth as his head rested on his shoulder. Jean was quite tempted to pick him up and take him to bed, but he wanted the cake first.

It was that thought that made him remove his hand. Armin whined, but he was glad for the opportunity to complete the task on the stove. Jean hadn’t even expected he’d have the presence of mind to do so.

“Just a little while longer, okay? I promise.” A dainty hand trailed down Jean’s side. “Then… I’m all yours.” Armin craned his neck to lightly kiss the corner of his mouth.

Jean squeezed his bottom once, letting his eyes stray to the panties. They were highly cut and scant with fabric— offering a generous view of the pale, unblemished skin of his pelvis. Jean even caught a whisper of his cock through the small eyelets. He wanted to reach down and rub him there.

“I’m counting the seconds,” Jean told him earnestly, his voice acquiring a purring timbre when he spoke into his ear. “You’re tempting me in that skimpy underwear, babe. I still need to give you a spanking for lying to me about going to work.”

He traced his finger along the rim of the lace garment. It was unclear if Armin’s shudder was due to what he said or that touch.

“Mhm, yeah. Definitely a spanking...” Jean knew that brush against his crotch when Armin turned around was deliberate.

It wasn’t easy to move away, but he eventually did perch in one of the chairs tucked beneath the wooden table in the center of the kitchen. Jean just kept ogling Armin as he moved about, conjuring up very provocative imagery of the man lain over his knee, ass jiggling with every slap of Jean’s hand while he berated him for being a _naughty boy._

\---

Jean stared loudly as his boyfriend licked icing off his fingers. At current, they were at the kitchen table and dining on homemade red velvet cake. Jean had honestly not anticipated such a marvelous taste; Armin was usually so incurably _hopeless_ in the kitchen. Disasters were unavoidable with him.

But Jean would like to think he worked hard to bake a birthday cake he’d actually _like_ and not just eat so Armin wouldn’t be sad.

“That was delicious,” Jean complimented. He gave a hearty pat to his stomach. Across the table, Armin seemed to be purposely trying to allure him with how he chewed and swallowed the final morsel of his cake slice.

“Thank you.” A smile adorned his gorgeously effeminate face. “I’m so glad I didn’t screw it up.”

Jean refrained from making snide commentary about Armin’s cooking deficit, since really, no one would benefit from it. Instead, he grabbed for his hand and held it within his own gently.

“I love you, baby,” Jean said with a faint upturn of the lips. “It was far from screwed up, but you know I’d eat it regardless.”

Armin chuckled. “I know you would.” There was a moment of him being oddly fixated on comparing the sizes of their hands; Long and slender fingers against tinier ones. Armin laced them together and brought them both down to the table.

“And I love you too, Jean.” He smiled.

It was deplorable that even now, hearing Armin state the mutual feeling induced a quickening in Jean’s pulse. His eyes concentrated on the blond while he carried their dirty dishes to the sink. His behind was so _favorably_ emphasized by the minimal coverage those cheeky undergarments provided.

 _Such a sexy little thing._ Jean found himself fantasizing about all the things he’d like to do to the blond while he was still wearing the panties. Jean knew it was _his_ day, but his most present desire was to worship Armin’s body and call forth the most beautiful reactions.

“Armin, sweetie, shall we go to the bedroom now?” Jean asked this when Armin walked back over to him. He saw him remove the apron and lay it over the back of one of the chairs, exposing his nude torso.

“Mhm!” His reply was lively and full of smiles. It would appear Armin was equally as thrilled to bestow upon him the surprise as Jean was to receive it.

He straightened to stand and tilted downward to kiss the top of Armin’s head, catching him with an affectionate smile. Armin was such a constant desire to him, it was true, but he was also the man he loved. He didn’t want him ever to forget that.

Armin took his hand, kissed the back of it and then guided Jean out of the kitchen and through the moderately-sized apartment. Biscuit was at the foot of the couch playing keenly with a tennis ball. She was unbothered by the two figures that walked by.

Jean and Armin approached the closed door of their bedroom and, seemingly having kindred thoughts, came together for a quick kiss.

“I hope you like it,” Armin said. He was marginally nervous when he pushed the door open with the knob. Jean’s eyes widened as he was ushered inside.

He immediately noticed the absence of light. There were candles _everywhere_ , and the floor lamp was on its dimmest setting. Their bed was devoid of a duvet and was covered only by silken sheets neatly tucked under the mattress. The atmosphere of the room was intensely _romantic._

Jean looked to Armin for an explanation, though he was quite apparently pleased.

“This is such a gorgeous arrangement…” Jean pursed his lips inquisitively. “But I don’t understand.”

Armin peered into his eyes, rubbing his arm gently. “Well, um… you know, you’re always griping about how much your job stresses you out, and how those crazy shifts you work have you sitting at a desk for all those hours. It makes me so worried…” He walked him toward the bed with a grip on his arm.

“So… I took a class on the basics of massage therapy.” He smiled diffidently. “Granted, I only learned one… but that’s what I wanted to do for you, Jean. Give you a massage and then, I also bought these really nice bath salts…”

Jean was already smiling when Armin’s hand went to his cheek.

“We’ll take a bath together?” His head tipped hopefully to the side. There was something exhilarating about the idea of that— to luxuriate in hot water with someone that fits so _aptly_ in his arms.

“That’s the plan.” Armin nodded. He shifted to stand before him and placed his palms atop Jean’s shoulders, feeing the high-quality leather there.

“But first…” He held his boyfriend’s gaze in a tight grip and pushed the motorcycle jacket off his upper half. “you need to get out of these clothes.”

Jean smirked. He crossed his arms over his chest and divested himself of the burgundy v-neck he had on in a wink. The way Armin’s eyes wandered his torso was not discreet, nor was him licking his lips and mouthing _damn._

“Let me do that for you.” He nodded toward the remaining clothing on Jean’s body. Before he could verbally answer (he was going to say yes), pale fingers deftly started on his belt buckle, and unbuttoned his jeans thereafter.

Jean sat on the bed and Armin immediately knelt before him so he could unlace his Doc Martens and afterward, pull the heavy combat boots off his feet. Jean assisted in the removal of his jeans.

When he was left with only boxer briefs on, Armin kissed his happy trail in a tantalizing fashion before getting back up. He stood before Jean then, completely appetizing to the man’s senses.

“I could devour you like this, you know…” Jean caressed his thighs.

Smiling the tiniest bit, Armin leaned to his ear and said in a breathy whisper, “You’ll be able to before long, daddy.”

It was that name that kindled a want in Jean to _throw Armin down_ and fuck him into unconsciousness, but he repressed the urge and pushed it to a less-engaged part of his mind. _Not now._

Armin returned his palms to his shoulders and gently directed the larger form to lie on his stomach atop the sheets. “But for now, I need you to lie down, okay?” His fingertips brushed across Jean’s wingbone. “I promise you’ll enjoy this.”

Jean allowed his eyes to close. What he did enjoy was the sensation of the silk against his naked skin. He sighed, contented by the heady aroma of lavender that entered his nostrils.

Droplets of some creamy substance were squeezed onto his spine, then hands rubbed over it in languid circles. The lavender oil (that was what Jean figured it was) made the process of Armin massaging his shoulders all the more pleasant.

“Mm, that feels so nice…” Jean said. He tucked a pillow beneath his head and relished the soothing stimulation Armin was distributing onto his upper back. He’d always had a high tolerance for pain so Jean didn’t think of the involvement of his fists. It was alleviating to the muscles that had grown tense from months of working a desk job.

“God… your back is all knotty,” Armin pointed out. His mind’s eye showed him frowning, yet Jean couldn’t see it. The hazel-eyed man only chuckled. He had succumbed to the relaxation in full.

“You should do this more often, then,” Jean suggested, his lids still shut. A smile had pressed into his lips when Armin kissed his cheek.

“For you, I would do anything.” His boyfriend rubbed his hands down the length of Jean’s back and up again, applying more massage oil since the first bit had been absorbed into his skin.

For a time, they lapsed into silence; Armin’s warm hands working over Jean’s back (every so often, he was certain he felt touches beneath the hem of his boxer briefs) while Jean kept his eyes shut and his head in the silk pillowcase.

“Turn over for me, hm?” The soft words were close to Jean’s ear. Still in a slight daze, he compliantly shifted onto his back. Armin smiled when he was met with Jean’s eyes, albeit they were lidded.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Jean reciprocated the smile, brushing back a fall of blond when his boyfriend kissed him a second time.

“Hi, handsome.” Armin’s hand descended his front, pausing to physically marvel at the washboard ripples in Jean’s abdomen. When he grazed the waistband of the fitted boxers Jean wore, Armin stared into his eyes. Jean’s dick twitched in expectation. _Finally_ he would be getting some relief.

Armin slowly traced the outline of the sizable erection shielded by cotton. Jean grasped that mop of yellow hair and _yanked_ him into another kiss, his tongue prying between his lips. Insistent fingers tugged down Jean’s boxers. The rigid and _thick_ member sprang out, appearing almost angry against the coarse bed of pubic hair.

Armin ended the kiss to grant himself ample room to get Jean’s boxers all the way off his legs. The other man helped, kicking his undergarments aside while Armin fetched the lavender oil again.

He squirted some into his palm. Jean took a preparatory inhale. He had a pretty solid idea of what Armin was readying to do.

The blond man smiled at him. He held his thigh with both hands, massaging it and adding pressure at certain spots. Jean grunted when it seemed he was making a _conscious effort_ not to touch his dick whenever he neared it.

It was tortuous. Jean had been turned on since he’d first encountered Armin in the kitchen, but now, his manhood was basically throbbing against his pelvis—showing the depth of his desire.

“Fuck, Armin…” Jean glanced upward at the ceiling. “Enough with this massage shit. I’m gonna _burst_ if I don’t get some relief soon…”

In response, Armin was silent. He applied the same treatment to his other thigh (which Jean enjoyed in spite of the contradictory grouses) but this time, when he wandered toward his crotch, Armin relented. He encircled his hardness and ran his thumb along the veiny underside.

“Patience is a virtue, Jean,” he admonished, amusement on his tongue. “You really think I’m cruel enough to leave the _birthday boy_ unattended to like that?”

Jean knew it would be so on any other day. Armin was habitually a little shit when it came to disallowing Jean pleasure. In the time spent by his side, Jean could confidently say he was attuned to his kink for denying orgasms. It reared its head rather quickly after their dalliances began.

He hadn’t time to vocalize what he was feeling, though. The hand now stroking his cock replaced any prospects of speech with a low, satisfied groan. Armin’s hand was warm and baby-smooth from the oil— the resulting sensation extraordinarily _good_ against him.

Now, Jean was uttering profanities for a different reason.

Armin tightened his wrist, jerking him firmly within his palm. “So, I take it… you like your massage, then?” He blinked at Jean from between his thighs.

“I’d think that was obvious.” Jean lifted his hips to get as much friction as he possibly could. “But you know,” he mused, “it would be a whole lot better if you used your mouth.”

The face that Armin pulled was the epitome of coyness, though Jean was well-acquainted and knew it wasn’t completely genuine. He had his lips pursed while he pretended to mull over his options.

“So, you want me to suck your cock?” Armin asked, squeezing the base of said area as he inched closer to it. “Hm, daddy?”

Jean’s eyes rolled shut, therefore unaware of the sly little quirk in Armin’s lips. He hissed through clenched teeth when the stroking sped up.

“Yes.” The man’s voice was gruff. “Daddy would very much like that…”

Jean opened his eyes to an unfittingly _cute_ head-tilt. Armin went right to work— sticking out his tongue and tracing a line all the way up to the top of his dick. He poked just the tip of the muscle underneath the foreskin, tonguing at it adoringly.

The act was much too akin to how he would kiss his mouth and Jean was pretty much powerless to the throaty moans that tumbled out. He studied Armin as he enveloped the head, sucking with his eyes closed. He moaned and his hand immediately sunk downward. Jean was not pleased.

“Don’t you dare touch yourself.” The sharp command reverberated deeply.

Armin had at once set that hand upon Jean’s thigh, whimpering in apology and dotting some open-mouthed kisses along the shaft. It was incredibly _erotic_ to witness.

Their eyes locked together when Armin suddenly changed route, sucking him into his mouth and swallowing his girth with practiced ease. His tongue licked fervidly at the rock-hard appendage in his mouth when he started to bob between his legs.

Jean reached to take hold of blond hair. “That’s good, baby…” He pushed his head further on his cock. “So fucking good, ahh…”

Armin sighed around his mouthful, glad to be praised. One hand trailed down to his scrotum. He rubbed the pad of flesh before fondling his balls with some devout attention. Jean cupped Armin’s cheeks, holding his head as he thrust himself into the insane _wetness_ of his throat.

Armin just kept sucking hard, one hand on his thigh while the other continued stimulating his sac.

Jean was transfixed by the sight of Armin deepthroating him. Every gagging noise he made only swelled Jean’s arousal. He pushed the blond’s head aggressively on his cock, fucking upward with his eyes screwed shut.

“Fuck, Armin…” he moaned. “Taking my cock like some seasoned whore… You must really love when daddy fucks your mouth like this.”

A squeeze on Jean’s thigh was how Armin responded to that lustful, degrading comment. He could only imagine how severely Armin’s cock _strained_ against the lace panties. Jean smirked just from thinking about it.

After a while, the assault on his throat had eased into gentle bucking of the hips, though Jean’s fingers remained tangled in the pale locks crowning his boyfriend’s head. Armin was honestly blowing him like a fucking _kitten_ — suckling lightly and letting out quiet little mewls every so often. It turned him on an amount that was incomprehensible.

“Armin,” Jean rasped his name, staring into his eyes while he did so. “come here, now. Come sit on daddy’s face.”

While Armin did still his actions, it was apparent how _loath_ he was to draw back and break the contact with Jean’s dick. He turned his head away and coughed. “Did I do well?”

With his thumb, Jean affectionately wiped away precum and saliva from the corner of his mouth. “Mhm.” He smiled appreciatively when their eyes met again.

“You were such a good boy, Armin. Sucking my cock like that…”

A candy-colored tongue swept across the digit that was idly rubbing his lip. “I’m _your_ good boy.” That validation made him smile, which Jean found both cute and extremely arousing. He brought their lips together when Armin crawled over him.

“Always.” Jean murmured the promise against him, long fingers sneaking underneath the back of his panties to grab an ass cheek. He gave a squeeze. “My baby boy…”

Armin sighed at the touch. He moved up his body until he reached his collarbone, hoisting onto his knees. The blush that dusted onto his cheeks was a deep shade of red when he came to hover above Jean’s face.

It was endearing that, after so many sex-crazed months, there were things that still managed to embarrass the blond man— like Jean orally pleasuring him while in such an _unholy_ position. Having Armin’s groin full in his face caused a twitch in Jean’s own nether regions.

The man glanced upward, his tongue peeking out and lapping what he knew was his lace-clad cock. A gasping moan came out of Armin at the contact.

“Can I rip these?” Jean lowered his eyelids, a hot tongue rolling across the front of his underwear.

“That was what I intended when I bought them,” Armin explained, his voice still somewhat cracked from having Jean’s cock lodged in his throat not so long ago. “Feel free to do whatever you like.”

Jean slid his fingers into the side of the panties, the skin that greeted him delectably _smooth_ to the touch. His other hand went to his perineum and pushed the fabric there out of the way so he could swipe his tongue along the area a few times.

From above, Armin shivered and moaned.

“You’re so sensitive.” Jean’s chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already starting to unravel. Tell me, does it feel that good?”

He knew it must’ve. He kept tonguing the flesh beneath his scrotum, drinking in each reaction the blond freed from inside of him.

“It’s, oohhh, it’s s-so good…” If only Jean could get a decent view of Armin rubbing his nipples.

His hand went to his cock, winding his fingers around himself and jerking steadily. More noises were wrung from Armin when Jean’s tongue teased between his ass cheeks. The panties were still pushed to the side. He found his entrance and licked him there, massaging the delicate opening in slow, circular movements.

Armin cried out. Being rimmed somehow felt even _dirtier_ with his underwear still on.

“Mmm...” Armin flicked his nipples with fingers wetted by saliva. “D-daddy!”

Jean’s smile was almost invisible. He stroked _rapidly_ on the precum-leaking rod, hissing and pushing up into his hand. The tethers were loosening and he was dangerously nearing his peak—  He could feel his release pooling in his stomach. Jean knew this wouldn’t be the last orgasm of the night.

His tongue shoved inside Armin’s hole without forewarning.

A gasp escaped cherry-tinted lips. Jean jabbed the muscle repeatedly in a back-and-forth motion, loving the sounds that arose from the all-consuming pleasure. A pull on the back of the panties made a deafening tear and disconnected the garment at the side strings. It came asunder and fell, discarded, onto the silk bedding.

Armin stopped rubbing his nipples. The sensations evoked were insubstantial next to what Jean could give him. It didn’t take much for his mind to be cluttered with thoughts of how _wonderful_ the tongue felt inside of his ass. He vocalized this through a moan— saying explicitly how _good_ Jean was at giving head, how no one even came close to satisfying him in such a way.

The other man chuckled and carried on with the brutal tongue-fucking. He didn’t falter in jerking himself off, either. His wrist moved in the same _feverish_ manner.

“You’re close…” Armin had looked over his shoulder upon feeling the vibrating moans against his walls. Jean heard him whimper. He’d assume it was a product of seeing the precum beading at the tip of his dick. His current position only allotted an affirmative sound. The hands that gripped the sides of his face and stilled what he was doing were unexpected.

“Let me…” Armin drew an intake of breath. “Let me take care of you.”

Jean carefully ejected his tongue. Being taken care of would be pretty damned ideal, especially with the _problem_ between his thighs that he had to worry about. Armin was gently moved and Jean bent his legs to push himself a little ways up the bed. He smiled at him to reiterate that he was indeed a good boy.

“Go and kneel with your front against the headboard.”

Jean changed his stance on the bed and stuck a hand into the drawer in their nightstand, acquiring one of the bottles of Trojan lubricant. Armin was on his knees as ordered, facing the wall and holding onto to the top edge of the headboard.

Jean knelt behind the small blond and kissed his shoulder. He smeared some of the water-based substance onto his manhood and then Armin’s inner thighs.

He held Armin by the midsection, keeping him in place and pressing his hard member in between his thighs. A sigh tugged out of Jean as he started to thrust in and out of the snug space— slow at first, then he picked up speed with no sort of regularity.

“Oh, fuck yeah…” Jean’s husky whisper rested at Armin’s ear. The other’s hips pushed back against him just when Armin’s moan hit his senses.

“Just hold on, baby,” Jean breathed, nipping the shell of a pierced ear. “I’m gonna come soon...”

Armin squeezed his thighs around his thickness and leaned on the comfortable solidity that was Jean’s chest. “Please… make a mess of me.”

He asked for it so _nicely,_ how was Jean even meant to say no? He couldn’t, that was obvious enough.

Calloused hands gripped his arms. Jean groaned and bit hard on his shoulder, coming to the apex of his pleasure. It left him in the hot ejaculatory fluid that shot out from his urethra and, as Armin had requested, messily streamed onto his thighs.

Breath ragged, Jean slumped into the other man’s slight form. Armin’s hand dropped to collect a little of his cum. He savored the familiarity while licking it from his fingers.

“How dirty…” Jean observed, chuckling into his ear. He pulled at the lobe with his teeth. “You like the taste of my cum?”

Armin slotted his backside into Jean’s crotch. “Mhm, so much.” Their eyes were glued as he once again gathered up some of his release and swiped a tongue over his fingertips.  

“I want it inside of me.” Armin implored this with a wiggle of his ass. “I want _you_ inside of me. Please?”

Jean spun Armin about-face and pulled him in. “Of course, baby.” He nuzzled the top of his head. “I would really like to fuck in the bathtub.”

“Oh…” Armin shivered and closed his eyes. “T-that could be… attained so easily.” Thoughts of impaling himself on Jean while shrouded in water made him sink teeth into his neck. It was evident that neither man was willing to take the first step toward enacting this.

“Do you… want me to go run the water?” Armin laid his head down on Jean’s shoulder, a gasp airing out when his backside was cupped and kneaded.

Jean began placing kisses on the skin under his ear. He had told his boyfriend yes, though his actions weren’t making the execution process any easier. Armin gained resolve seemingly out of thin air. He lifted back up and, unable to stifle the impulse, pecked Jean’s lips with his own.

“I’ll come get you when it’s ready,” Armin informed, smiling. Jean was opposed to him moving away, yet there was the knowledge that they would only be separated for a few minutes. Something in their apartment’s plumbing made the faucets to run abnormally hot water temperatures, so it wouldn’t be long before the bathtub was filled.

But that didn’t quell Jean’s disappointment when Armin left him, and then the room.

He forcibly kept busy ruminating on possibilities of all that could transpire while they bathed. Sex was a given, but Jean was also looking forward to the hypnotic feeling he knew would come of the blond’s fingers gently washing his hair.

He smiled while thinking about it. Jean moved unwittingly to his feet and strode right out of the dimly-lit bedroom. He _needed_ to be in Armin’s presence again, he decided. The bathroom was across the hallway. Jean saw that the door was ajar and a sliver of light peeked out.

His approach was on autopilot.

Jean tried not to cause a disturbance when he stepped into the room. It must’ve worked; Armin hadn’t even looked up from what he was doing.

His blue-eyed boyfriend was bent over the tub while he tested the water with his fingers. He was humming some poppy tune that Jean couldn’t place in his mind, though that didn’t keep a smile from bleeding onto his face.

He came forward in what he thought was silence. Armin’s eyes only turned away when there was but a breath of space between their bodies.

“Oh, Jean…” Amin’s lips formed over the single syllable of his name and stood upright. Jean didn’t bother speaking; He just backed the man into the nearest wall and knocked him with a kiss he knew had _seared his soul._

Weak, pliable fingers posed on Jean’s shoulder, then came around to thread through brown hair. A whine spilled into Jean’s mouth and went right down his throat. In that moment, the bathwater wasn’t the only thing in the room that emanated heat.

Jean grasped Armin’s thigh and the kiss deepened. As a reply, Armin had coiled that leg around him and ground his hips forward. Both reacted so _intensely_ to the brush of skin from below. Jean growled into the kiss while Armin scraped his nails over his scalp.

That frenzy of their lips held out until the wordless, yet paralleled, decision to have their bath was breached.

As a conjoined being, they stepped over the side of the tub. Jean allowed a moment to adjust to the shock of swelteringly _hot_ water licking at his legs.

“Is the temperature okay?” Armin nailed him to the ground with the sheer radiance of his smile. Jean mirrored the expression, chuckling as they both settled into the bathtub. No thought was given to their shift so Armin was nestled in his chest.

“It’s perfect.” Jean pulled him closer. Armin had turned his body to the side and leaned on Jean’s collarbone. _“You’re_ perfect, baby doll…”

Jean nuzzled his nose to his cheek. Several moments passed of them just relaxing together, no words being exchanged. The room was silent aside from the soft sounds of their kissing and Armin moaning as Jean’s finger traced up and down his crack.

The digit was wet with both water and lubricant. The latter fluid came from what Jean inferred as the same bottle that had once staunchly resided in their nightstand drawer. Armin must’ve relocated it just for the bath.

He gazed at him, smirking due to the closed-eyed, open-mouthed look of bliss. He pressed just the tip of his finger into his hole, the slight gyrating of his hips depicting that Armin craved more than what was given.

Jean did enjoy teasing him, but a large part of him also wanted things to hasten. He watched his face closely aa he finally complied with what Armin’s eyes were _begging for_ : His middle finger sunk into the tight opening between his ass cheeks.

He paused for a second when he reached his knuckle, then resumed pushing upward. The slide was smooth because of their current submerged state. Armin’s face contorted in pleasure.

“A-ah!” He cuddled his side into Jean’s chest and his cock jumped beneath the water. Jean propelled the digit, then drew it back. He continued in a steady ebb and flow that had Armin moans rising in pitch.

“Can I touch my cock, daddy?” He began nibbling on the juncture between Jean’s neck and shoulder.

“I bet I can make you come without it even being touched.” Jean kept his finger moving at a languid, unhurried pace. Armin sighed both because of how good it felt and also out of frustration.

“I know you can...” His flattened palm stroked a path down Jean’s chest. “Please… Do you really need to assert—”

But the thought met a sudden end. Jean added his forefinger, abandoning gentleness this time. He curled both fingers and thrust them in and out, opening them in a V-shape to properly stretch Armin’s insides.

“You were saying?” Jean chuckled. He was honestly torn between touching Armin and prolonging the denial that even he would admit was unfair.

Armin just kept making the little whining sounds to show that he _wasn’t here for it_. Jean knew his baby was suffering. He prodded deeper, searching for a certain bundle inside of him that he knew would bring the utmost pleasure.

Jean sunk his hand beneath the water and it wrapped around the blond’s member. Armin, like him, was uncut. Jean knew just the right way to stimulate the foreskin to _drive him up a wall_. He knew he’d have him in tears before the night was over.

Jean pulled back the foreskin and rubbed over the mushroom head laid bare for him. Armin gasped out a curse, his body convulsing and loud moans exiting his lips as Jean’s fingers stretched him wide.

“Oh my— _fuck!”_

He didn’t need to be told that he’d located his prostate.

Armin hid his face in Jean’s neck. He was probably trying to disguise the severe level he was enjoying all that was being done to him, though that was of no avail.

“Oh, oh, _ohh…”_ He moaned high in his throat, grinding on Jean’s fingers but then pushing himself upward into the hand on his cock.

“Jean… Yes! Please… please get me ready for you.” Armin was babbling with his face in his neck.

Feeling smug, Jean jerked his wrist and stroked in balanced movements. Armin’s head reeled backward and he released a moan. His leg came over Jean’s hip and he turned, straddling him in the water. Hia arms hugged his nape.

They stared into each other’s eyes as both Jean’s hands worked their magic, fingering his ass while he played with Armin’s ridiculously _cute_ cock. It was the manner in which the blond tightened up that signaled the imminent arrival of his orgasm.

A knowing smirk etched onto Jean’s equine features. “You ready to come, honey?” His fingers were hitting Armin’s prostate with unforgiving precision.

His mouth seemed eternally formed to hang open. “Y-yes.” Armin said this with his eyes shut. He moaned the other’s name right beside his ear, then threw his head back and, after a moment, he neared that euphoric pinnacle and his orgasm hit _hard._  

Armin’s cock wept with the semen that spurted out from his slit and into the water. Jean’s hand remained unmoved. He enjoyed the hot and sticky cum that stained his fingers, even as the consistency was diluted and ran in abstract meanders.

Jean pulled his two fingers out of him and immediately in the following moment, he slapped a taut ass cheek.  

Armin breathed in labored in-and-out fluxes. Jean dipped a finger in his release and drew a shape on his flushed chest. He stopped this to gingerly tease his nipple. Armin bit his bottom lip.

“Armin,” Jean’s voice was low but had enough base to be heard. “be a good boy and ride my cock, hm?”

Saying it was all that was needed to trigger mental images of him doing just that— riding him with emphatic bounces while the water sloshed about their thighs. Jean’s eyes fluttered from the thought.

His now mostly-erect manhood pressed against Armin’s behind from his astride position. It was nice to see how prone Armin was to reactions, even if the contact was as slight as just feeling Jean’s cock touching him underneath the water.

Still not entirely present, Armin grabbed the lubricant from the shelf beside the chrome faucet.

“I know we’ve fucked countless times but, God… it still amazes me that your cock... It feels so _big_ , Jean…”  He rolled his ass back against Jean and they both moaned. Jean was gritting his teeth.

Armin dropped his head onto his shoulder and slicked Jean’s already sopping shaft with lubricant. Clasping the man firmly, Armin guided him to his hole. He sighed at the graze of flesh.

Jean couldn’t abide the lack of speed. He acted on his impatience and entered Armin with a definite upward thrust. His boy’s mouth fell agape and he _cried out._

“Fuck…” Jean grunted. Armin had to sink teeth into the side of his neck to restrain his sounds. When he came in to the hilt, Jean held the small of Armin’s back as the one in his lap circled his hips around. His expertise in riding dick stemmed from the blond’s love for teasing— in all aspects of their sex.

“Mm, daddy…” Armin whispered into his ear as he finally raised his hips, then came back down on him. Jean could feel his dick hardening in his walls.

“You… you feel so good inside of me…” Armin exhaled the compliment. Jean snapped his hips up into the cavity that was still so _tight._ Armin fucked down with his head lolled back, exposing the throat that Jean adhered his mouth to. He sucked his Adam’s apple and groaned into his skin.

“Fuck, baby… _fuck_ , just like that… Bounce on daddy’s cock…”

Armin did. He rode him with all the passion that had built up in his chest. His hands were on his shoulders and his thighs _quivered_. The water jostled against them with each movement their bodies made.

Tongue and teeth raked over Armin’s throat and he tightened his arms around his narrow waist. Armin delved fingers into his hair, his moans loud and _melodious_ against his ears.

“Daddy!” He called him again and again. Jean bit harder on his neck and curled his lips into a self-satisfied smirk.

“Yes, baby?”

“Please…” Armin gasped. “please fuck me! I need to feel you deeper—”

Armin was mostly controlling their pleasure, but it wouldn’t remain so for long. Jean planted his hands on his thighs and drove in fiercely, thrusting at an almost _alarming_ pace.

Armin took him with his eyes squeezed shut. Jean was gnawing on his throat with enough vigor to break the skin. Armin was nudged into a slew of resounding moans.

All these overpowering sensations caused his boy’s cock to awaken. It stirred against his pelvis that was doused in bathwater.

Jean plowed into him hard. He leaned backward and pulled the smaller man with him— knees bent so he could more lucratively dominate their movements. Now, it was just Jean thrusting into Armin at a breakneck speed while his boyfriend did naught but plead for more.

“Oh, _fuck me!_ ” Armin cried. He threw his head back with a whorish moan when he felt _that spot_ being jabbed into. “Right there, daddy! _Fuck_ … nnnghhh, don’t stop—”

Jean rested his head against the tiles. “You like it there, do you?” He smirked, smugness inflating inside of him while he fanned his fingers out over Armin’s spine. Jean was sure to strike his prostate each time he bucked into the orifice that _constricted_ him.

Armin nodded and made a pitiful sound. He looked over his shoulder and was throougghly mesmerized by watching the point where their bodies joined. He was less riding him and more a means for Jean to get off— his body became supine and complaisant; simply allowing his boyfriend to push violently into his ass. The continuous moaning was enough verification that he liked it.

Already, he’d begun to leak out a little precum. He felt it smear against the spongy walls that surrounded him. Diligent fingers reached for the other’s cock, aiming to get it to full hardness once more.

Armin was completely out of it, his moans falling to unintelligible jumbles. He braced his palm on the tiles and kept begging for _more._ Jean didn’t get that since he was already fucking him with all the power he could muster.

Honestly, the idea that Armin was just too touched-out to articulate himself did wonders for his ego. He initiated a kiss, molding their lips over one another as he cradled Armin’s skull with his fingers. Their tongues engaged in a sinful dance that had both men sighing.

Armin’s cock underwent transformation in Jean’s hand; stiffening and increasing in size to signify an erection. The shaft was tugged with the same urgency of the way he ravished his ass.

Armin’s cries were muffled by the kiss, but they retained their desperation. Jean too vocalized his pleasure— He moaned loudly and was bludgeoned with a coiling burn in his stomach that could only mean he was close.

Jean broke their lips apart. The closeness between them was upheld though.

 _“Fuck,”_ Jean swore, sharing fractured breathing with the other man. “Baby, I’m gonna come soon…”

Armin’s mouth was stuck open right then. “M-Me too…” The moisture that built up at his eyes gave way to a full on _sob_ when Jean severed the connection of their bodies and shoved him to kneel with his chest against the wall. Armin’s body was but putty in his hands.

From behind, Jean embedded his cock inside him without even an ounce of caution. He heard Armin scream as he held up his leg and pounded him d _eep._

“Ahh, fuck—” Armin clewed at the tiles, writhing about in the throes of his pleasure. Jean’s teeth pierced into his shoulder. He pulled Armin’s hips onto him, forcing him to meet his thrusts. The earsplitting cry that came forth was an adequate show of consent.

“Mm, oh, God— _I’m coming!”_ Armin’s warning came just as his orgasm did— the hot, pearly expulsion gushing out of him and spilling down the glossed-over ceramic he was pressed against. Jean followed after a short while, moaning obscenities as he filled Armin with wave after wave of cum.

He bit roughly into his flushed shoulder and growled. “Fuck yeah…” Teeth ripped at his flesh. “ _Take it…_ Aaah, you’re so fucking good, Armin…”

Jean’s thrusts endured throughout his orgasm, though they did lessen into just slow rocks of his hips while he continued to paint his inner walls with his seed.

Armin’s shaking form collapsed against the larger man, boneless and entirely _depleted_ of energy. His chest heaved with every pant that puffed out of him. Jean lowered Armin’s leg and pulled him into an embrace. Their sweat-slicked bodies were connected in more ways than one.

Jean kissed his neck, his tongue swiping that same area afterward just to tease him. His softening cock was dislodged from his warmth and Jean reclaimed his spot in the now-tepid bathwater.

Armin joined him without any thought, his back to Jean’s chest. Jean leaned close, whispering sweetly against his ear as Armin snuggled up to him. Neither man cared that the water cooled in that period when they were too occupied to notice.

Now, Jean held the blond in his arms, basking in the moment while Armin turned and a soft mouth traveled the line of his jaw.

“Baby boy…” Jean nosed into the top of his head. “Shall we retire to the bedroom for round two?”

He smirked playfully, though the question had been serious. Jean had quite the _ravenous_ hankering to fuck him again. It wouldn’t be quenched by anything less.

Armin’s head fell against his collarbone. “You’re insatiable,” he giggled out the chide, smacking his chest lightly beneath the water.

It was pointless to speak out against what they both knew was true.

“I didn’t hear a ‘no’,” Jean challenged.

“That’s because there wasn’t one.” Armin got more comfortable in his arms and laid a kiss upon the sharp bone of his clavicle. “You can take me however many times you want. I’m yours, Jean.”

Jean smiled, satisfied by that definitive statement. “Happy birthday to me then.” He leaned his head back, gently patting Armin’s thigh to express his desire to depart. His boyfriend didn’t need to be told twice. Ever obedient, he flipped the knob to raise the piece of metal that once kept the bathwater from draining. Then, he stood.

Jean followed only after he’d taken time to stare at Armin’s dripping-wet backside.

Armin knew he was being watched. He turned his eyes on Jean and smiled a little, urging the man to get out of the water and stand up alongside him. They both stepped onto the plum-colored bathmat.

“Happy birthday, Jean,” Armin said when they’d exited the tub. He planted a quick, loving kiss onto his mouth and smiled. “You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

Jean sported an oversized grin. “The time of my life.” He spoke with sincerity that he thought was unmissable, but Armin still lingered in self-doubting uncertainty. He tried (and failed) to obscure it behind lightheartedness.

“I’m glad. I…” The other man paused to bite his lip. “I just… really wanted your first birthday we spent as a couple…” His voice quieted and he dashed his eyes away for just a second.

“I wanted it to be perfect.”

Jean’s grin faded into a smile without him even realizing. Armin was just so unfailing sweet. He pulled him closer, a lot of effort required to ignore the chill on their now gooseflesh-covered skin.

“It _is_ perfect,” Jean said, kissing both his cheeks. “But let’s not talk about it in past tense. There’s still a few more hours until midnight.” He smiled down at the man and combed his fingers through the cornsilk strands.

Armin tossed the smile right back. He snuggled into him, mumbling about how _cold_ he was. Jean held him tighter with one arm while the other extended out and tugged two fluffy towels off their designated rack. He wrapped Armin in one and he the other.

The shorter male leaned up on his toes and kissed Jean full on his lips. He returned it with enthusiasm, touching his cheek while simultaneously toweling off his body. Armin hummed as their fronts pressed together with not even a wisp of space between them.

The kiss abode as both their towels fell to the floor and, without preamble, Jean lifted Amin up. The blond hadn’t needed to be told to wrap his legs around the other’s sculpted midsection. He did so, and Jean blindly walked them out of the bathroom, all the while whispering to Armin the things he’d like to do once they reached the comfort of their bedroom.


End file.
